


The Fairest Of Them All

by KPOPTrashLord-007 (TrashLord_007)



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Comedy, Crack, F/M, Funny, Gangs, Humor, Mild Language, Oblivious Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, it's based off someone else's work so Idk how it will go! awkward, mafia, mafia!au, vain reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashLord_007/pseuds/KPOPTrashLord-007
Summary: Of all the places you could have stumbled into today, you could have never guessed that this one would be such a treasure trove. Both the Districts and the Kings were here and both had their eyes set on you.Chapter One Summary;;Three men competing for your hand, two opposing cliques, and one shotgun.How did it end up like this… again?!





	The Fairest Of Them All

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a crack fic that is based off [this fic](https://writeformesinpie.tumblr.com/post/187583755715/a-microwave-walks-into-a-bar) (the CRACK edition), which is actually based off [this fic](https://every1studio.tumblr.com/post/187528342331/special-pirates-versus-kidz-ateez-straykids) (the original serious, mafia edition). 
> 
> *Both are links to Tumblr, not to AO3!*
> 
> [Prefer Tumblr?](https://kpoptrashlord-007.tumblr.com/post/187635655585/the-fairest-of-them-all)
> 
> Ideas and storyline are theirs!  
I just wanted to flesh it out because I thought it was funny and I'm in a constant state of writer's block.

A smile flitted across your face as you slid the certificate into the sheet protector. With a sigh on the tip of your tongue and a squeal building in your chest, you just wanted to scream and shout and let it all out! You lived in an apartment complex, however, and knew you had to be mindful of the other tenants. With this in mind, you decided to turn on some music and sing along to express your building excitement, throwing in some freestyle dance for the heck of it.

"Jesus, stop, you sound like a drowning cat!" Your neighbour called through to you, crisp and clear like the morning breeze. 

While his words were lost on you, the sentiment was not. It was hard for even your neighbour (who you had known for quite some time now) to restrain himself. His voice had quaked with anticipation. He couldn't take it anymore. The sound of your soft, angelic voice must be torturing him as he cursed these walls that are so thin yet too thick to tear down.

It seemed even animals were starting to be affected - a bird (or was it one of those squirrels that can fly?) began to caw and slam against the window, tapping the glass with beak and talon. Its beady eyes bore a hole into you, glaring with an intensity that only grew with every attempt to break through and get closer to you.

Oh well, the celebration wasn't necessary anyway. All that mattered was the paper in your hands. Just the thought of it was enough to make you forget everything else. You smiled down at the certificate again. 

You had finally done it! 

You had built up the courage to go online and take the first step to becoming a private investigator. After deliberating on whether or not to do it for so many weeks, you bit the bullet and filled out the application. To your exhilaration, it was also the final step and you were able to print out your very fancy and definitely official certificate after paying the licensing fee. Who needs to eat, anyway? Money you can get anywhere, but life experiences only come once every 42 months. 

Your only regret is quitting your job before setting aside some money to laminate the certificate, but the sheet protector would do for now. Everyone starts small, after all. If you started at the top, you would have nowhere to go but down and you weren't the type that went down easily! 

With that in mind, you spent a week researching the happenings in your city while also promoting your services around the interweb. You learned many things which all proved useful and juicy, all the while building your portfolio.

The local vet worked diligently through the night to save your old teacher's cat's life and you offered your help, promising to investigate their clinic for any malpractice on her Facebook timeline. 

You vowed to find your cousin's killer, even though your aunt insists he is just travelling abroad which is why she misses him and _not_ because he died, making her seem all the more suspicious and prompting you to push her to the front of your list of suspects.

Then there was the auction for the church restoration project and like a lightbulb going off, it became so obvious what you had to do, what your first step in cleaning up the city would be: shutting the charity ball down.

It didn't take a genius to realise that the items being auctioned off were stolen, or "hot", goods. No one around here just happens to have a spare yacht lying around that they're willing to just give away for a "good cause", even if they're planning to upgrade it. 

Besides, the original owner was a catfish. There was no way that a man that young and good-looking could afford a yacht, let alone buy an even better one.

With that in mind, you fell down the rabbit hole that was hardcore and extensive research. You looked into every nook and cranny of his life, searching from site to site, and even going old-school and hitting the archives for a papertrail. Once you felt comfortable in your knowledge of the first man, you moved on to his friends who were equally unrealistic. 

It wasn't stalking, but investigating.

To your surprise, you find out that they're not catfish - they really _are_ that attractive and seemingly perfect. Putting two and three together and connecting the dots like a true P.I, the answer to the puzzle became more daunting and chilling than you could have originally imagined; they were criminals.

Gangsters.

Misdemeanor-ers.

Full on mobsters!

… or, perhaps, trust fund kids.

One or the other. Either or. It didn't really matter because either way, you wouldn't be fooled any longer and you couldn't be stopped.

Armed with your homemade dossiers on the men (all stored inside the one place in this world that you knew no one else could ever access - your mind), it was time to get serious and crack down on the crime building in your once-pleasant city.

Starting at the church, you questioned as many religious-looking people as you felt necessary before moving to the docks to find the questionable yacht. 

After several hours of searching for the mysterious water vehicle and threats of police involvement from the dock's security guards who didn't respect your license and the authority it held, the clouds thickened and welled with moisture before bursting and creating a downpour to rain on your investigation. Everyone dispersed, desperate to escape the wet conditions.

There was just one boat left. The _Aurora_. 

Just one last chance to get to the bottom of this mystery once and for all.

With one look at the sleek and slick design, you knew it was futile to try to clamour aboard while it was this wet. 

Oh well. What was the likelihood it was the right one anyway? 

You sloshed your way out of the docks and toward a bar across the way. There's what sounds like a fight breaking out in the alleyway nearby and you thought you saw a flash of silver but with the rain soaking your hair and droplets dripping down and stinging your eyes the longer you stared, you decided to ignore it. 

_Kids will be kids._

Opening the door to the bar, you tried not to bring too much attention to yourself but that's no easy task in your current state. Then again, it never has been. 

You pulled off your raincoat and hung it by its hood on the coat rack. With a sigh of relief, you adjusted your thankfully dry shirt, dressing yourself as modestly as you could. The last thing you needed was to be approached while you were in the middle of an investigation. With that in mind, you flicked the droplets of water off your face and wrung out your hair, allowing the excess to splash on the ground. 

You continued to slosh just as you did out on the dock as you entered further into the bar. Your sweats were heavy at the ends with accumulated rain and your shoes felt full and moist. Even your hair felt heavy against the skin it clung to. 

Making your way across the establishment, you bit back a groan. You felt everyone's eyes on you. It was inevitable but you always held hope that this would be the exception, that this would be the time you would be able to avoid the inquiring and curious and admiring gazes that followed your every footfall. 

That's the problem with brilliance - when you shine this bright, it's hard not to be seen.

With a quick glance around, you realised this bar was actually quite fancy. There was glass (lots of it!) and gold (but it probably wasn't real… probably), plus silver and other shiny-looking things. 

You whistled as you held an ashtray in your hand before sitting on a stool near the bartender. If you weren't such an eye-catcher, you could've pocketed it, or at least some of the cutlery. 

"What an eyesore." 

You looked toward the source and understood her outburst immediately. Jealousy often reared its ugly-head when you were around. She wasn't the only one, either. Many of the patrons held contempt and disdain in their eyes. It was such a classic tactic for nursing a bruised ego, one you had become quite used to so you just ignored them all and turned back to the bartender.

"And what exactly is it that you want?"

"Thanks, but water will be fine."

He scoffed once his confusion passed, filling a glass with tap water and putting it on the table. It wasn't your empty wallet that prevented you from ordering something from the menu, but your dedication to the job. With a swell of pride at your own work ethic, you stared off into a dark corner of the room as a few men strolled inside from the back alley entrance and sat in a booth within your line of sight.

Your mouth began to open in sync with your widening eyes. They were all very handsome, like models, and they looked strong and tough. A blush graced your cheeks. Perhaps it was the alcohol or a fever from the rain. You knew it wasn't of your own volition. You were on a job, after all. You weren't about to go boy crazy and-

That's when it hit you. 

That's _them_. The kids from your mental dossiers! The Districts! Probably all nine of them, but who has time to count?

You had taken to calling them the Districts because it sounded cooler than 'those guys you found accidentally and looked into but not in a creepy way while also not-stalking those other guys with the boat'. From what you could tell by their Instagram accounts, they compensated for their lack of height with sarcasm and bad attitudes. 

They also seemed to enjoy partying all through the night, always being near the rowdiest events and craziest incidents in town. At least they had the sense to get out of Dodge before things got too bad - they were never around once the police showed up. 

But if they were here, then perhaps the main focus of your investigation was nearby… the Kings. 

That's the name you had given to the boys all involved in donating the yacht to the church auction. They had all looked posh and gorgeous and regal in their photos, so it felt suiting at the time. In retrospect, you were giving them too much credit. Imagine thinking that these boys, who were, as far as you were concerned, way too into boats and other aquatic things, deserved such a title. 

_Perhaps the Mermans was more fitting._

With a scoff, you broke your attention from the Districts and just about dropped the glass you were raising to your lips. Thankfully, you instead only let water trickle down your chin. 

How wrong you had been; they deserved the title and so much more. 

Of all the places you could have stumbled into today, you could have never guessed that this one would be such a treasure trove. Both the Districts and the Kings were here and both had their eyes set on you, unable to look away. 

The Kings looked rough, sprawled in their seats as they muttered to one another. On occasion, a nod or hand would gesture toward you until at last one of them stood, his blue hair reminiscent of the deep, blue ocean as he stalked toward you. His smile was tight, as if fighting to hold back his true emotions. 

It was hard to break eye contact but you found it within yourself to face forward, if just for his sake. 

You can't say you're surprised when he takes the seat next to you, only disappointed. If you've already caught their attention this early on, the rest of the investigation will prove quite troublesome. 

"Bold of you to come in here looking like that."

Lifting the glass toward the bartender, you signalled for a refill. You ignored his display of obvious jealousy masked as irritation that he sent toward both you and the younger, more impressive bachelor that had now arrived on the scene and was vying for your attention. You feared the worst so you gave them the same treatment: the cold shoulder. There was no need for a fight to break out over you. 

Not again.

"You couldn't keep your eyes off us a moment ago and now you're ignoring me? You really are something else."

"I'm not interested." 

"Me either. I can give you a twenty to get out of here."

"I'm not a prostitute."

"I mean, you look like one, but that's not what I meant."

"Fine, buy me dinner and I'll consider it."

"What? No, that's-"

"Wow, you are really cheap. I'd sooner fuck the bartender, honestly." 

You gave yourself a mental slap on the forehead. If you kept talking, you'd end up saying something worse and giving even more people a glimmer of hope. You needed to control yourself before your sex appeal reeled in too many fish. This was already getting out of hand with just this one guy. 

Risking a look at the bartender, you saw your fears had come to fruition. Shock was plastered all over his face and his ears were burning. Words tried to form but nothing coherent came out. Like a fish blowing bubbles, he opened his mouth only to close it once more. After a long minute, he gave up and excused himself. 

How cruel you were to give him hope when there, in actuality, was none. 

The man beside you tensed, hands clenched as he steadied his breathing. He was ensnared in your charms already. 

_It very well may be too late for him,_ you thought sadly, sneaking a glance at his face. He took this as a chance to engage in the conversation again, trying his luck once more.

"What's your name?" 

"Oh, now you want to know?" 

"Yes," he replied through gritted teeth after a deep breath.

Your mind tried to find any name to give him that wasn't your own or that could be traced back to you, or to your newfound (online) investigation agency. 

Scotch? Gin? Glass? Microwave? _Shit!_ The silence is dragging on, it's becoming too obvious. Any name will do! Just think! Even the name of a damn boat would work. You looked at so many today, surely you can remember one! 

And the lightbulb turned on.

"Aurora."

He just about choked on air at your response. Why'd you pick such a beautiful name?! He's going into shock, just like the bartender. Is this what it means to be a man killer? If this keeps up, you'll need to lock yourself up for society's sake. You needed to steer the conversation away from yourself before it was too late, but he didn't give you the chance to, too eager to learn more. 

"Is that so?" 

"And you are?" 

He smirked at you before standing with enough force to send the chair flying. Much in the same way he came, he disappeared off to the corner where the rest of the Kings were waiting for him. Their eyes were blazing with uncontrollable emotions, brimming with rage and need and lust and fury. Most obvious amongst it all, however, was jealousy. 

_Of course this would be my fate,_ you cried internally, eyes glued to them as if watching a tragedy.

As this all unfolded before you, the seat on your other side became occupied. Not to your surprise, it was one of the Districts. It was only a matter of time before one of them approached you.

His eyes were warm and you felt drawn to him as you stared deep within them. In this moment, you thought you could finally understand how everyone else felt when their gaze fell upon you. 

"Don't mind them, they're creeps. Did Yunho hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Can I get you a drink?" 

"The bartender, he, uh-" 

The District leaned over to grab a can from behind the bar and placed it in front of you. His smile was adorable. His cheeks were adorable. In fact, everything about him was adorable. All you wanted in this new moment was to make him yours, which again helped you to understand everyone else.

"Don't worry, it's on me. I'm Han Jisung. What's your name, gorgeous?"

_Fuck._

A pet name? He's already too attached! 

It had been, what, ten minutes and you had three men wrapped around your pinky and ready to throw fists for you? 

You needed to think fast and deescalate the situation. You had already skipped too many important steps in the investigation and you were in over your head. Time to take a step back, reevaluate, get some air, and escape this Hell of your own creation. 

"Your name, sweetheart?" 

"Sex On The Beach, but I'm working right now."

Jisung's mouth fell open and he sputtered out a few words that didn't quite make sense to you. 

Snapping back to the present and realising what you had said in response to what you had thought was still a question about drinks, you spun toward him searched your brain for the fake name you had given the other one but it escaped you. Instead, you yelled out the first word that came to your head, the first thing that came to your mind every morning, "Mirror! I'm the fairest, I know!"

There was a commotion in the King's corner that overshadowed the sudden tense atmosphere in the District's. The one named Yunho was coming back and he looked pissed, his gaze trained on you and Jisung. The tension was palpable from wall to wall in the bar and it gave you the clarity to notice that everyone else had left and you were stuck in this bar with these hungry, ravenous dogs.

_Aurora, you dumb bitch_. That was the name.

Yunho stared at you with something dark in his eyes as he took in what you imagined was a situation that broke his heart; you had already forgotten him and moved on to the next. 

"Mi...roh?"

"Uh, yeah, Aurora. But what is he doing?" 

Tearing your eyes off Yunho to risk a glance at Jisung, you saw a similar look to the one Yunho had prior and gulped. It was happening again. Another had fallen into your web and realised too late that he couldn't escape your involuntary seduction. 

Yunho grabbed the Sprite, holding it so tight his knuckles turned white and the aluminum threatened to explode under his force. This snapped Jisung back to reality. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Why the fuck are you giving her a Sprite?"

"Don't fight! Really, I'm not interested in either of you!"

"What?" They both growled in unison, inching toward each other with every word until you felt trapped between their bodies. 

It wasn't unpleasant. 

With lightning fast reflexes, Yunho held your wrist within his and began to tug you away from Jisung and toward the other Kings. "She's coming with me."

"No, you brute! I'm not interested in you and your small dick energy! Unhand me, buffoon!" 

Your shouts and weak slaps aimed toward him did nothing to stop him. It wasn't until your free hand was pulled back, now enclasped within Jisung's grip, that your progress was halted. 

"No, actually, she's coming with us."

"Us?! I don't think so! I'm not into that!" You stopped, giving a quick glance over at the other Districts who were starting to stand. "Well, I mean, never say never."

"Shut up!" They yelled in unison, each giving a tug and earning a pained yelp from you. 

Back and forth you were yanked, pulled between the two men as they fired insults and threats. Knowing how these things always turned out, you allowed yourself to go limp and go with the flow. There was no point in getting involved until they sorted it out amongst themselves.

Sooner than later, they'll be going at each other like dogs, trying to tear the other apart to prove themselves worthy of your hand. Once that failed, they'd be on their knees begging. 

You sighed. 

The only way this whole situation could get worse is if their friends decided to jump in and join the squabble as contenders. You could see the fiery desire in their burning gazes. It was only a matter of time.

Or perhaps the bartender would return, brandishing a shotgun, and yelling something like, -

"Quit fighting and let that woman go!" 

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, both their jaws and grips loosening. Wiggling free, you took a step away from them and rubbed your bruised skin. The bartender took notice of this small action but, as per usual, you weren't surprised. When it came to men in love, nothing could surprise you anymore.

"Come on, move. You'll be safe with me. For now."

_For now._

At least he knew the inevitable, as did you.

Even though all three were absolutely and completely enamoured with you, Jisung and Yunho were too far gone, lost within their burning hearts and heated emotions. You were mere seconds away from being kidnapped, saved only by the bartender's own greed! You would be safe from the Districts and the Kings if you joined him, and you could deal with the consequences and his shotgun later. 

With another sigh, you took a step toward him, ignoring the commands from Jisung and Yunho to stay by their side, presumably forever. They sounded so desperate and needy, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon them like this. 

Three men competing for your hand, two opposing cliques, and one shotgun. 

How did it end up like this… again?!

**Author's Note:**

> Yunho's dick energy isn't small, just an fyi


End file.
